Kissed By Fire
by KherassyG
Summary: People who are kissed by fire are said to be lucky. Ask the Hound and Lady Sansa, and they will tell you otherwise. Once a prisoner of the crown, now the King's wife, Sansa has lost all hopes for a happy ending. Now the little bird's dog, Sandor suffers with her every day. The scars they share will bring them closer, while life will do its best to keep to keep them apart.
1. Losing Faith

**Kissed By Fire**

 **Author's note :** _Hi :) So, this is my first attempt at a SanSan fic, I hope you'll like it. It's been a while since I've read the books, and I can't wait for the next and final season in April! Nothing belongs to me except for the story itself and the characters I invented. I took the liberty to change a few things and mix up events from the books with some from the tv show. I hope it won't be too confusing, since I am not very good with the timelines.  
_

 _So, here's the first chapter! Have a good read, and don't be shy to leave a review or ask questions :)_

 _English is not my first language._

 _ ***Warning : Mention of violence against a woman - Suggested rape - Mention of gore**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _ **Losing faith**_

'' Your Grace, Lady Sansa, '' Maester Pycelle's tone was dramatically grave as he addressed his young king and his wife.

Sansa focussed her gaze on a piece of parchment on the old maester's desk, trying her best in keeping a neutral mask. Despite being wed to the King of Westeros, she hadn't been crowned queen in return, and thus didn't deserve to be addresses as such. The fool, Ser Dontos Hollard, had paid the high price for calling her ''queen'' during the wedding feast. He had been publicly stripped, humiliated, beaten, and then mortally drenched in strongwine. Later, his chopped head with his bloody bulging eyes and his broken nose had been placed right in front of Sansa, the first and only gift from her _beloved_ new husband.

'' The Fool now rests in peace with his Queen, '' Joffrey had mocked.

Fortunately, when the meal was brought to their table, and right before Sansa passed out, Cersei ordered the Hound to remove the fool's head from her sight. Joffrey seemed at first displeased, but then agreed when his mother suggested they could adorn Lady Sansa's room with some _new decoration_. Sansa had been forced to smile and thank the Queen for her generous gift.

This had happened almost a year ago, but Sansa swore she could still smell the horrid scent. She hadn't dared to complain, though. Things might have turned worse.

Gods, _how_ could things turn worse than they already were?! She was wed to the cruelest man in all the Seven Kingdoms, her days started and ended with humiliation and pain, and she was alone in the world.

Despite her prayers to the Father, Joffrey was still king, and no one had managed to defeat him yet. Despite her prayers to the Mother, no mercy had been shown to her family, which had been murdered before anybody could save her. Despite her prayers to the Maiden, her maidenhead had been taken in the most painful possible way, and every night she lost more and more of her innocence. She didn't know she could be taken in so many disgusting and painful ways, and by more than one man.

And finally, despite her last few prayers only addressed to the Stranger, she was still alive…

 _If there are gods, they made sheep so wolves could eat mutton, and they made the weak for the strong to play with_ , the Hound had said. It seemed a long time ago, but Sansa remembered that conversation as if it had happened yesterday. She had called him awful then. He had retorted that he was honest. _It's the world that's awful._ And, no matter how much she hated to admit it, he had been right all along.

There were no gods. Or, at least, if they existed, they weren't there to save them, but to taunt them and make them believe that they were good.

If gods existed, they wouldn't have let Ser Illyn Payne behead her father, Eddard Stark, the most honourable man she had known. If gods existed, they wouldn't have let the Freys and the Boltons murder her mother, her brother Robb, and his pregnant wife in cold blood. If gods existed, they wouldn't have let Theon Greyjoy sack Winterfell and kill her little brothers, Bran and Rickon. If gods existed, they wouldn't have let Arya marry Ramsey, Lord Roose Bolton's evil bastard. If gods existed, they wouldn't have let Jon's so-called brothers betray him by stabbing him repeatedly until he died from a final blow in the heart.

If gods existed, they wouldn't let Maester Pycelle say what he was about to say.

'' After a thorough examination, I have to tell you once again, that Lady Sansa is not with child any more than she was last month, nor the one before that . Since it's been a whole year now, I have come to the _unfortunate_ conclusion that she might be barren! ''

Sansa knew what was coming. Still, she started feeling unpleasantly numb, and knew she was about to faint when Joffrey started yelling. She heard a faint smacking sound, then felt herself falling to the ground as blood spilled from her split lip.

No. There were definitely no gods.

.

* * *

 _Ok, so I know it's short, but that's just the beginning! If that first chapter intrigued you and you want more, please let me know in a review! Thank you :) I'll see you later in the next chapter._


	2. Hopeless

**Kissed By Fire**

 **Author's note :** _Hi! Here is the second chapter of this story! In this chapter, a new character is introduced. I hope you'll like her. Thank you for the reviews, they are truly appreciated :)_

 _Have a good read!_

 _English is not my first language._

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

 _ **Hopeless**_

'' You're very beautiful, my Lady. ''

Sansa scoffed.

'' I wouldn't call… _this_ beautiful, '' she retorted, waving a hand towards the mirror in front of her. '' Not anymore, anyway… ''

She was standing in the bathtub, as naked as a newborn, while Alaya gently washed her body. Sansa's skin had become a map of bruises and scars through the year. The only part of her that was almost untouched was her face. The King still liked her pretty, though he kept calling her ugly to humiliate her, a disgusting bag of skin and bones. And she had become just that.

Looking at Alaya's perfect skin, Sansa almost envied her.

Alaya was one of Joffrey's mistresses, his favorite in fact. To better show Sansa how low she'd fell, Joffrey had picked her new servant in a brothel. When she was introduced to her new lady, Alaya didn't seem to know anything about the tasks of a maidservant. She spilled wine on Sansa's dress every chances she got, pulled too hard on the knots in her hair, cursed like a sailor, showed way too much skin, and on top of everything, attempted to seduce Joffrey every time he was in the room. Needless to say that the King instantly liked her.

It was later that Sansa found out it was all a show for the King. Alaya was a very wise woman, polite, gentle, but her most beneficial quality in King's Landing was her ability to manipulate men.

Through their conversations, Sansa learned that she'd birthed a daughter many years ago, but raising a child in a whore house was a hard thing to do. On her daughter's fifth name day, Alaya had sent a letter to her older brother, who was now an important merchant from Maidenpool, and asked him if he and his wife could take her daughter and raise her alongside their other children. Her brother, who had always loved her dearly despite his sister's strange choices in life, had accepted right away. A few days later, he'd rode away with his crying niece in his arms. It broke her mother's heart, but she'd had no choice. Today, Alaya's daughter would be approximatively Sansa's age.

The day of Eddard Stark's beheading on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, Alaya had been there and she'd recognized a bit of her own daughter in Sansa, with her naïve thinking, her pale skin and her red hair. As she so often heard of the atrocities that the Stark girl endured at the end of their vile king, and imagining how she would feel if it was her own daughter, she never got a chance to forget about her. Thus, when a few kingsguard came in the brothel where she worked and asked the owner to spare one or two of his whores to become Lady Sansa's maidservant, Alaya had been the only one to volunteer.

Sansa had been reluctant in trusting her at first. She had sought the Hound's advice, as she so often did since the night of the Battle of the Blackwater. She had pretended a need to go to the Godswood, although they both knew she barely prayed these days. The Hound had followed her obediently. Once they'd reached the Godswood, Sansa had sat on a little wooden bench, and had waited for the Hound to sit beside her. Instead, and unsurprisingly, he'd stayed stubbornly standing. Seeing that she wouldn't say anything, he'd spoken first…

.

'' _What's plaguing your mind, little bird? I can almost hear you thinking,_ '' he mocked her, not unkindly.

Sansa thought for a few moments more of the right way to approach the subject. She was still a bit scared to make him lose his temper, although he had always been nothing but gentle and honest with her. _Well, not always gentle,_ she thought as memories of the night where the sky had been filled with green smoke, and the Hound's blade had been against her throat filled her mind.

'' You told me once that I shouldn't trust anyone, '' she started hesitantly. ''Not even you. However, I still came to trust you. I know deep down that you will never hurt me, nor betray me… ''

'' Where are you going with this, girl? '' He was losing his patience, she could tell. '' Just spill it out! ''

'' If I ask you something, can I count on you to be honest with me? ''

Gods, what a foolish question! The Hound frowned, clearly thinking the same thing.

'' Have I not always been honest with you, little bird? Of course, you can, '' he finally answered when noticing how nervous the redhead was getting.

'' My new maidservant… ''

'' The whore? ''

'' Please, don't call her… ''

'' Don't call her what? It's what she is. I won't call a lion a kitty just to make sure your sleep isn't plagued with nightmares, though we both know they already are. ''

Sansa sighed deeply.

'' Sandor, please…''

That stopped him from taunting her for good. When she would say his name like that, he seemed to become more man than beast. With two long strides, he was by her side and let himself fall on the bench. The poor wooden thing creaked under his weight, but Sansa didn't pay attention to it. She focussed her gaze on the steel gray eyes scrutinizing her.

'' You want to know if you can trust her, am I right?''

Sansa nodded gravely. Sandor looked away and scratched his beard, clearly lost in thoughts.

'' Well, you know what I think about giving your trust to anyone. That little maid of yours is a very good liar, but she can't fool an old dog like me, believe that, '' he rasped, the good corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a knowing smile.

Sansa relaxed and allowed herself to smile. If he was in such a light mood, it must mean that Alaya was not a threat to her safety. Not as long as her faithful Hound was around anyway.

'' So, you think she is not trustworthy? ''

'' I didn't say that. Just that she is good at lying. ''

Sansa was confused. Sandor must have noticed, for he barked out a laugh.

'' See? She even fooled you. She makes Joffrey think that she's acting all mean with you, that she takes a liking into mocking you when she brushes your hair or scrubs your skin. He eats in her hand. Hells! She's very good at it, I have to admit. She spared you a few beatings already. I usually hate liars, but I kind of like her. ''

Sansa raised her head sharply to him. She already knew that it was all an act, but she'd just wanted to make sure that the woman wasn't acting with _her_ instead. It wasn't what caught her attention, though.

'' You… You like her? ''

''Aye. Does it bother you? '' he asked, leaning so close to her the scent of his skin was all she could smell, and the gray of his eyes all she could see.

Sansa looked away, frowning. '' No. No, of course not. ''

Sandor laughed out loud as Sansa's cheeks turned almost as red as her hair. '' Don't worry your pretty head over it, girl. You're still my little bird. And a very bad liar. ''

.

Sansa hissed when the wet cloth touched a scratch on her right arm.

'' Forgive me, I didn't mean to hurt you, '' apologized Alaya.

'' There's no need for forgiveness. None of it is your fault, we both know it. ''

'' I could've done more to spare you that one… ''

Sansa placed her hand on Alaya's, which was now on her shoulder.

'' You could never have stopped him that day, nor will you be able to do it today. With what we learned this morning, I don't think I will leave his chamber alive. ''

'' I hope you are wrong… ''

'' I hope I'm not.''

Alaya rose her eyes sharply to Sansa. Sansa knew she liked her, and she felt the same about her new closest friend, but she was _so tired_! Her days were spent waiting for the next humiliation, the next blow, or the next painful _game_ with Joffrey. Her entire family was all dead. No one would come to her rescue. She so wished she could leave this place, spread her wings and fly away like the little bird the Hound said she was. But it was impossible, and she knew it. Her only potential escape was death. Her only chance for peace.

A knock on the door alerted them. A raspy voice they both knew well came from behind the wood.

'' I'm here to escort the Lady. The King is waiting. ''

.

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed this longer chapter! The next ones will be approximatively of the same length. Let me know in a review :) They are precious to me!_


	3. Burning love hate

**Kissed By Fire**

 **Author's note :** _Thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites. Those are the only ways for me to know if you like this story, so don't hesitate to review/follow/favorite if you do :) Here is the third chapter! Enjoy :)  
_

 _English is not my first language._

 _ ***Warning : Violence against a woman, mention of rape.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 _ **Burning [**_ _ **love]**_ _ **hate**_

The walk through the corridors went in silence, but for the sound of the Hound's boots hitting the marble floor. Just before they turned the corner leading to Joffrey's bedchamber, Sansa stopped. She was losing her courage. She didn't fear dying; she feared the way it would happen, for she knew Joffrey would make it the most painful death possible for her.

Sandor came to stand a few inches behind her.

'' Do you think he's going to kill me? '' Sansa whispered, her trembling voice betraying her sudden fear. The silence that followed was answer enough. Sansa's eyes filled with unbidden tears before she asked in a small voice: '' Do you know how? ''

'' I… ''

Sansa waited, but nothing more came.

'' Sandor? ''

For answer, he placed a warm hand on her shoulder, and took a deep shivering breath.

'' The King spent the whole day pestering about how he wanted your head on a spike before dawn. Cersei strangely seemed against it. She took him apart to talk to him, but we all know that what Joffrey wants… ''

'' Joffrey gets, '' Sansa finished.

'' Aye, no matter what his mother says. He is King, after all. ''

His hatred for the boy was more than obvious in his voice. Yet, at that exact moment, Sansa needed comfort more than angry words. On an impulse, she turned around and threw herself in Sandor's arms. After a moment of hesitation, Sandor placed his hands loosely on her back, then his arms came around her completely and he engulfed her in the best hug she'd ever had in a very long while. She felt warm and safe, as she always felt in his presence.

She was happy he didn't wear his armor in her presence, although it didn't do anything to make him look less imposing. Without the cold thing between them, she could feel his comforting heat. It seemed to be the only thing that could warm her body, and a tiny part of her heart that wasn't dead yet.

After what seemed like an eternity, yet not long enough, Sana gently pulled away. Sandor let her, his hands now resting only lightly on her waist. He had never touched her that way – she had never dared to embrace him either. Many things had changed.

Sansa raised her hand and cupped his cheek; the burned one. She had spent the year feeling safer when that face was around, so she had stopped fearing it. In the flickering light of a torch burning near, she could see his eyes were shining from barely contained anger, but there was also a deep sadness in them. He was feeling powerless.

The sight made something stir in her, and convinced her that what she was about to do next was the right thing to do. Swallowing her tears, Sansa stood on the tip of her toes and placed a gentle kiss on Sandor's lips for the fist time. Only now did she realized that she'd always been curious as to how he would feel, if his mouth would be as cruel as his words, and if the ruined side would disgust her. It was nothing like she had imagined, she thought to herself.

On the contrary, his lips were warmer and fuller than Joffrey's, although a little chapped. The burned side didn't bother her at all; to her utter surprise. She even relished in the feeling! And there was no cruelty in his touch. He leaned into her, but didn't crush her, and his lips moved ever so gently against her, as if he was afraid to hurt her or scare her away.

A pleasant shiver ran down Sansa's spine, and she wished this moment would go on forever. When she felt his fingers grip her hips a little harder, she knew she had to go, or else she would stay in his arms, taking the risk of them being discovered in this treacherous act, and then they would both die. She didn't want that, not for him anyway. She cared for him too much.

Her heart breaking in two as she did so, she abruptly turned around, and disappeared to meet her fate. Her only regret, she thought as she pushed the door and met Joffrey's impatient gaze, was that she hadn't done it before.

Sandor was left standing in the corridor, stunned. His hand was raised, as if trying to catch his little bird, but she was already gone.

.

Pain.

It was all Sansa could feel. Her body, her thoughts, her soul, her heart… Everything was pain. Her throat and her lungs ached from screaming. Her sides were hurting from being kicked. Her most private parts were on fire and possibly bleeding from being forcefully invaded so many times. The delicate pieces of skin where the whip had snapped felt numb.

Sansa was laying on the ground, curled on herself in a vain attempt to stop the pain. A fire was burning in the heart close to her, but she couldn't even feel its heat. Joffrey was circling her, all the while spitting insults. Sansa's ears rang too much from the last blow to her head that had sent her sprawled on the ground, thus making her blessedly deaf to his words.

Through the curtain of her hair, Sansa saw Joffrey stopping in front of her. He didn't have the whip in his hands anymore. He crouched down and pushed her hair away from her face. His hairless torso was heaving under his nightshirt. Looking in his green eyes, Sansa noticed that they were glinting with something new. A new idea, a new game of his that made him happy, and made her suffer.

Joffrey moved out of her sight, and she felt more than she heard the floor creak behind her. Her ears stopped ringing just as he was starting to speak.

'' You know, Sansa, I've always thought you were pretty, '' he said, tracing a line on her shoulder with his cold finger. Sansa shivered. His hands were never warm.

 _Unlike Sandor's._

'' A pretty face on a pretty body, but with an empty head, '' Joffrey kept blathering, completely oblivious to his wife's thoughts. ''Oh, I didn't need you to be clever. The only part of your body I needed for my purpose isn't visible for the eye unless I kneel between your legs. For me to be able to spill my seed inside of you, I needed something pretty to look at. Now, we both know that it was useless, '' he said sourly. Then, he laughed mockingly before spitting on her bare back. '' Who knew you could fall lower than you already are? First you were a stupid girl, then a traitor's daughter, and now… HA! Now, you're not even a true woman! What use is a pretty face for me if the body wearing it can't even bear my heir? ''

Sansa tensed at his words. His words sounded like a final speech, a speech one gives before killing his enemy, like Oberyn Martell had done before killing the Mountain. He had forced him to confess the rape and murder of Elia Martell and her children, before driving his poisoned spear in Clegane's heart. That didn't stop the Mountain from killing him before dying himself.

After the fight, Tyrion Lannister, who had been accused of attempting to kill his nephew and king on his wedding day, had vanished. Lord Varys had also gone missing after that day. Sansa remembered that day very well. She had never seen something so gore in her young life. Ellaria Sand's horrible cry still haunted her nightmares sometimes. What had marked her the most, though, was the twisted pleased look on the Hound's scarred face. His booming laughter had scared everyone around him – everyone except for his little bird. Needless to say that he'd also gotten awfully drunk that night.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Sansa heard Joffrey moving behind her. The fear of not knowing what was going to happen spread in Sansa's blood like wildfire. She tried to turn around. She had to know when the time would come, when she would be free to remember the people she loved. Unfortunately, the movement caused her so much pain that she had to give up right away. She felt like sobbing from despair, but only a weak whimper escaped her lips.

'' Tomorrow, '' Joffrey went on behind her, '' the High Septon will publicly pronounce our marriage invalid in the eyes of the Gods. Only then will I be free to have you executed for treason. You lied to me. You told me once you would give me strong sons! It was all a plot to stay here and become queen. The King's Whore, the people will call you. The bards will sing about your downfall, about how you seduced your King to get power and glory, but you couldn't keep it a secret forever. Your womb can't quicken, which is impossible seeing how my own father was able to make so many children with so different women. It's _your_ doing! It could be sorcery… ''

As he spoke, he became more and more breathless, as when he was pleasing himself. Maybe he was. Yet, right now, Sansa was past caring.

 _Tomorrow,_ she thought. _Tomorrow, I will be free too._

Then, she felt Joffrey's breath close to her ear as he whispered,

'' Tell me truly, Sansa. Are you a witch? ''

 _What?!_

'' A _maegi_ , like the Dothrakis call them? Do you use bloodmagic to make your face look pretty in order to seduce men? ''

 _Seven help me, he is gone completely mad!_

Not knowing where she found the strength to do so, a small laughter that sounded more like a sob escaped Sansa's lips.

'' We'll see if you can still laugh after this! ''

He seemed to reach behind her, and Sansa felt his hot breath close yet again. She closed her eyes tightly, readying herself for the pain. It didn't come right away. The warmth of Joffrey's breath seemed to increase, until it became almost unbearable.

 _What is he do…?!_

An excruciating pain of which she'd never felt before, nor even imagined she could feel, exploded on her left shoulder, interrupting her thoughts.

All the Seven Hells broke lose behind Sansa's eyelids as flames licked at her skin.

She screamed.

.

* * *

 _I know that kiss happened very soon BUT it isn't a lover's kiss, but a '' I need comfort cause I think I might die tonight in very painful_ _circumstances '' kiss. No, they're not gonna be married in chapter five, I promise you! There are still many chapters to come, and there might be no happy ending for them... Who knows? ;)_

 _I hope you liked it! You know how to let me know :)_


	4. A Lion still has claws (so does a Hound)

**Author's note :** _Hi there! First of all, thank you for the reviews/favorites/follows. Second, I'm sorry if it takes time to post a new chapter. I currently have weird and very painful stomach aches, which could be caused by a bacteria living in it. I have a test scheduled in march to see what's going on, and how it can be treated. I was so sick lately that I was forced to leave my job to take more time to relax. I have a generalized anxiety disorder, and it could cause all of that too. So basically, I don't know what's going on, just that I randomly have huge abdominal and stomach pains everyday and night._

 _I hope it won't affect my writing, and that you will still appreciate the following chapter!_

 _Have a good read :)_

 _English is not my first language._

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 _ **A Lion still has claws (so does a Hound)**_

A scream could be heard behind the wooden door. Sandor gripped the pommel of his sword harder – if he could break it with only his bare hand, the poor thing would already be a pile of dust on the floor. The metallic taste of blood invaded his mouth as he bit down too hard on his tongue. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. He had to stay calm and keep his head clear if he wanted to come up with a plan to save his Little Bird.

The sweet kiss she had given him a few minutes earlier… Hells, he wanted more of that! Wanted more of _her._ He couldn't just stay there and do nothing. But he couldn't barge in there and risk having them both killed by acting stupidly either. He needed to act before the king would give the final blow, though. Sandor knew the boy would take his time, yet Joffrey was sometimes unpredictable, and so Sandor couldn't guarantee that he would have time to do anything.

He thought back of _that_ night, when the Blackwater was burning in green flames. He had so many regrets about that night. He regretted his cowardice for leaving the battlefield, his weakness that drove him to almost drown himself in sour wine, his anger when the sweetest girl he'd ever known had refused once again to look him in the face…

However, what he regretted the most was not his desire of fucking that same girl, willing or not, nor having threatened her with the tip of his sword. No, what he regretted the most was not having the balls to steal her away against her will, so that now she would be away from this place, and with a little luck, safe and untouched.

Another scream.

'' Joffrey is still playing with our little dove. ''

Years of practice in maintaining a neutral mask were what stopped Sandor from jumping at the sound of Cersei's voice. The queen was standing a few paces from him in her red and yellow gown, her hands folded in front of her and her golden eyebrows frowned. Her cold green stare was on him, scrutinizing him as if she wanted to know his darkest secrets.

'' I must say I am quite surprised to find you here, Clegane. Ser Osmund told me you were looking after the King. I genuinely thought you would be with that whore. Please, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about, '' she scoffed when he frowned. '' I saw you with her the other day, and I know she visited your room again the next, and the next one after that. ''

 _Oh, that!_ It was true, Alaya had shared his bed for the past nights. It had started a few moons after her arrival. After a particularly trying day, she had sneaked into his rooms with a bottle of strongwine, just what Sandor needed to forget the shitty day they had gone through. Joffrey had been in a horrible mood all day, barking orders here and there, sending Sandor and Kettleback away by turn, then requesting their presence, and then sending them away again.

Despite Alaya's best tricks to gain his attention, his main target had been once again the little bird. That day, no one stood up to stop Sansa's public humiliation. Everyone at court was quiet while the girl was stripped naked before them and beaten by _Ser_ Meryn Trant. Even Alaya had been slapped for attempting to take Joffrey's eyes away from the crying redhead.

Later, as soon as Sansa had been asleep, Alaya had joined Sandor. They had shared the wine in silence, both trying in vain to release their mutual tension, until one shared look made them realise what they truly needed at that moment. They had jumped on each other and had engaged themselves in the most brutal yet satisfying fuck they'd ever had. After that, a deal between them had been sealed without them having to voice it.

Sandor had no love for the woman, but she took care of Sansa when he couldn't and watched after her. Alaya had honest intentions and Sandor respected that. The brunette now shared his bed almost every night, but for the ones where Sansa's nightmares were overwhelming the poor girl. Like the good dog he was, Sandor would always wake up a few times during the night to check on his little bird. Thus, they could both take care of the girl and still satisfy themselves when they needed it.

'' She must be very good if you let her share your room more than once. 'Thought of trying her myself, can you believe that? '' Cersei laughed.

The movement seemed to make her lose her balance slightly, but she regained it fast enough. Looking closely into her eyes, Sandor could see that they were shining strangely. The queen was drunk. _Again_. With Jaime gone to Casterly Rock since their father's death, it happened more often.

'' She has bewitched all the men and a few women in court with her huge tits and her tanned skin, '' Cersei said sourly. '' She almost got me too, but I guess she is just not my type, '' she shrugged and giggled like a little girl.

'' She's not your type, but Kettleback is? '' The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Sandor had never been prone on insolence, yet tonight, as Sansa kept moaning in pain in the room behind his back, his patience was running short.

Never losing her smile, although it didn't reach her eyes anymore, Cersei stepped closer until Sandor could smell the strongwine on her breath. Her green eyes were cold emeralds flashing daggers at him.

'' Careful, Clegane. I didn't do anything about that little love affair, or whatever the fuck it is, but if you start threatening me, I won't be so clever anymore, '' she hissed, her smirk twisting into an ugly grimace. '' Joffrey might be king, yet his _kingsguard_ was hired by _my_ father before his murder from my little gargoyle of a brother. If I want you and your little whore killed on the spot, I just need to snap my fingers and both your heads are already rolling on the ground with your lifeless body squirming one. Last. Time. Understand? ''

Trying his very best to keep a disinterested face, Sandor managed to rasp between his gritted teeth: '' Aye, _Your Grace_. ''

'' That's better, Clegane, much better, '' she cooed as if she was teaching a child to say _mama_. It irked Sandor, still he refused to stir. '' See, I would hate to have you killed, '' she went on. '' With Jaime gone, I need someone to look after Joffrey, and that's exactly what you and Ser Osmund are doing despite hating him. And don't try to tell me otherwise, '' she lifted her finger and pointed it at his face in an annoying way. '' I know you do. Everyone does… ''

A cry interrupted her.

'' Even his wife. I would hate him too, but I can't. I am his mother. I bore him for many moons, spent hours sweating, bleeding, and suffering to get him out, nights to watch him sleep afterwards, '' as Cersei spoke, her stare lost itself on a point on Sandor's chest, and her eyes watered slightly. '' His first smile was for me. His first words were _mama_. I witnessed his first steps. I used to kiss his chubby cheeks, caress his golden hair, and sing to him every chances I got. Yet, despite my best efforts, Robert turned him into a monster. A monster that I am forced to love and protect at all costs. ''

Sandor's head was beginning to ache from how tensed he was. He didn't know what he wanted to do anymore; run his sword through Joffrey or snap Cersei's little neck? Why not both at the same time? Looking at Cersei without hearing what nonsense she was saying anymore, Sandor thought of how easy it would be to just kill her on the spot. They were alone, no one would know. Joffrey would be even easier to kill, and he would be gone with Sansa before someone found their bodies.

They had made a huge mistake in thinking that he was still their loyal dog. That mistake could be Sandor's advantage. They had lowered their guard and had forgotten that a hound too had claws and sharp teeth. Even a dog gets tired of being kicked.

Adrenaline filled his blood and Sandor took a tiny step forward. Too deep was she in her memories that Cersei didn't notice his movement. She kept talking while a single tear ran down her cheek. Sandor didn't find it in himself to show her compassion. He felt none for her.

'' … he was my baby boy, my firstborn, my precious miracle who looked so much like his father… ''

Sandor was about to bring his hands around her neck, when…

'' Your Grace! ''

Maester Pycelle appeared in the corridor, huffing and puffing as he obviously struggled to calm his heavy breathing. He'd been running, it seemed. And he also seemed to have a piece of parchment in his hand, with a broken seal that Sandor didn't recognize in the dark corridor. Something important.

Sandor took a step back as the maester approached.

'' We've received surprising news from the Night's Watch. ''

'' It couldn't wait until tomorrow? '' Cersei snapped, looking as if she'd just sobered up. Her eyes were still a bit red.

'' I'm afraid it couldn't, Your Grace, '' the maester said while glancing suspiciously between Cersei and Sandor. '' Here. ''

The old maester handed Cersei the paper. Sandor couldn't see what was written on it, but Cersei's suddenly pale face told him something was wrong. She whispered something, but Sandor didn't hear her.

A familiar smell had reached his nostrils, rendering him deaf to anything around him except for the beating of his heart. It was the smell of burned flesh. Sansa's scream was the loudest and most painful sound Sandor had ever heard.

He went berserk.

.

* * *

 _That's enough for today! Hope you liked it, leave a review, favorite or follow to let me know :)_


	5. Whores and Liars

**Author's note :** _Hello! So, this chapter is not at all what it was supposed to be, but when your characters lead you somewhere, you've no choice but to follow them. For the ones who like Alaya, you'll be happy to learn a bit more about her and her past. For those who wish for an update about my health, I've been doing better in the last few days. The pain is almost gone! But when it's there, I only want to rip my stomach out. I can't wait to know what causes that. Might just be my anxiety :/ I'll let you know. I'd finally like to thank everyone who reviewed/favorited/followed! It means a lot to me :) I hope you'll enjoy the following chapter.  
_

 _Have a good read :D_

 _English is not my first language._

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

 _ **Whores and Liars**_

The old man was sweating heavily above her. The tip of his bird unpleasantly tickled her breasts. When his wrinkled hand came up to grope her bouncing tits hard, she knew it would be over soon. She let out a long and high-pitched moan, and as she had predicted, two thrusts and a few grunts later, the old man rolled on his back, his chest heaving.

As much as she hated fucking old wrinkled men whose breath smelled like shit due to their rotting teeth, Alaya knew that she had no choice; after all, Maester Pycelle was one of the closest and most loyal ally to the Lannisters. She needed to keep her façade with him, the same way she did it with the King and his whole court.

Alaya deftly caught the cloth the maester threw carelessly at her to clean her cunt. As she did so, she couldn't help but think about the Hound, and looked forward to her next coupling with him, for he never disappointed her. When she used to work in the brothel, she had once heard one of the girls talking about the infamous scarred man, of how he was _big everywhere_ and knew how to use _it_. To this day, she could confirm it was true. The man, despite knowing nothing about gentleness during the act, or just preferring his fucks to be like him – hard and honest, with no faked tenderness, – had indeed nothing to be ashamed of about his virility or his body. His face might be a ruin, though Alaya didn't think it was so disgusting anymore, he knew damn well where to put it, and how.

And his butt looked way better than the one she was looking at right now. Maester Pycelle was putting on his nightshirt, all the while stretching his back. Alaya wasn't the only one to have a second face. The maester was still in good shape despite his old age, and his back didn't hurt at all. He faked it all.

Alaya got up and put on a light nightshift. She would usually stay naked, but the nights in King's Landing were getting a little colder lately. The breeze coming through the opened window had always been a welcoming one on her heated skin, but tonight, she felt as if the tiny droplets of sweat froze on her body. Still, despite the cold, she made sure to reveal as much of her breasts as she could without being uncomfortable.

'' Come over here, woman, '' the maester called from the other side of the room.

He was sitting at his desk, which was full of various parchments, quills and tiny bottles of black ink. The maester was holding a letter in his hands, which seal hadn't been broken yet. Alaya came to stand behind the maester and placed her hands on his shoulders to massage them.

The old man sighed and relaxed in her hands. '' His Grace made the right choice when he hired you, wench, '' the maester said while leaning back to rest the back of his head against her breasts.

Wrinkling her nose while he couldn't see her face, Alaya purred, '' 'M glad he did, m'lord. ''

After a few seconds of awkward massage on Pycelle's shoulders, during which the man sighed and grunted, he seemed to suddenly remember the letter in his hands. Alaya peeked over the man's shoulders as he broke the seal and started to open it. He stopped midway.

'' Can you read? ''

Alaya laughed and cocked her head to look him in the eye.

'' 'Course not, '' she lied. She sneaked her hands under his nightshirt and caressed his skin all the way from his torso to his belly, then close to his manhood without touching it, then up again to his torso. '' 'M no proper lady, m'lord. But y'already know that, '' she giggled before finally gripping his now flaccid member. The maester groaned and she moaned low in response. His cock hardened and she started pumping his length slowly.

'' You little _vixen_ , '' he sighed. '' You know how to use your hands… Aaaaaah… Enough now! '' he abruptly swatted her hand away. '' Use them on my neck, instead of disturbing my work. ''

 _I would gladly break that neck of yours, if only I had half of the Hound's strength._

'' As you wish, m'lord. ''

Before she arrived at the Red Keep, Alaya didn't know that being a whore could be used so much at her advantage. Everyone seemed to assume that she was an uneducated immoral woman, whose only knowledge was how to suck a cock and take it in any whole while pretending great pleasure. What people ignored was that whores didn't all come from a dirty whole in Flea Bottom.

Alaya was born in Maidenpool. Her father had been a renowned woodcarver and fisherman, and had wanted his sons to inherit his business, thus teaching them their letters and their numbers. Alaya, the only girl amongst four boys, had wanted to learn too. She was the youngest, and her father's daughter. She'd often sat on her father's knees while he taught the boys. Her mother disagreed, for she tried her best to show her daughter how to sew and run a household.

Alaya was bored of learning how to be a good wife someday. She dreamed of freedom. She dreamed of traveling in all the colourful cities her father was reading about to her brothers. One day, she had met a beautiful girl a little older than her, with pretty almond eyes, long and curly dark hair, and a strange tan on her skin. Her dress was the color of the sun. That girl came from Pentos. She was a whore. Something Alaya didn't understand yet.

She made up a beautiful picture of her lifestyle to Alaya, without telling her the darkest parts. She told her of the bonds and friendships she had created with other women in her life, how she had many men at her feet, how she could deal with her own money, how she traveled from a city to another, discovering new kinds of food, landscapes, clothes. She also offered her to leave with them.

Not thinking about it twice, Alaya had bundled up her small belongings in a large towel, had written a letter to her parents to tell them of how she was alright and would give them news as soon as she could, but that she was gone to live _the life I truly want_. At dawn, she was gone.

That is how Alaya became a camp follower at the age of ten and five. True enough, she traveled through the Seven Kingdoms, ate food that had never been on her table – like rotten apples, dried meat, hard cheese and black bread. She had started drinking too. It was easier when she was drunk. A few months later, as they were going back to King's Landing, which she had never seen yet, she had started sharing a young man's tent – Dante had been his name. The man was only eighteen years old, but he was already a good soldier. And a very respectful lover.

Needless to say that Alaya had instantly fell for him. She had believed his words of love and promises of marriage once they would reached the city. Until one day, after they were attacked by a bunch of outlaws a few hours away from the gates to King's Landing, all of her dreams had been crushed in an instant. His horse had come back, but not its master. It had taken a hard blow on Alaya's head by another soldier for her to stop screaming in pain and sadness. When she'd woken up, she had been laying on a dirty bed in one of Flea Bottom's brothels, with her Pentoshi friend sitting beside her, an apologetic smile on her pretty face. A few days later, she had learned that she was with child.

'' Ah! ''

The maester's gasp brought Alaya back to the present. She realized that tears were falling down her cheeks. She wiped them away hastily and looked down at Pycelle.

'' I need to inform the queen at once! ''

He rose to put on his robe and his heavy chains. In his hurry, he'd left the letter on the desk, allowing Alaya to take a peek. She almost gasped too.

'' Don't bother waiting for me, '' the maester said as he hastily snatched the letter away and left the room.

Glancing in the hall in time to see the maester disappearing in the direction of the queen's chambers, Alaya ran off in the opposite direction.

 _Sansa must know… Her half-brother, Jon Snow, is alive!_

.

* * *

 _Yeah! The brooding guy who knows nothing is alive! AHEM! I mean, our FAVORITE brooding guy who knows nothing except how to have the sexiest brooding face is alive! That_ completely unexpected _turn of event might change Sansa's fate... or not! Who knows? ;)_

 _Don't forget to leave a review/favorite/follow to let me know what you thought of the chapter! I promise you will learn about Sansa in the next chapter :)_


	6. Scarred

**Author's note :** _Hello! Sorry for the delay. I didn't have a lot of time to write lately. I usually like to have the next chapter already written before posting the previous one, but I decided not to have you wait too long. I'm gonna have more time in the next days to post next week (I'll do my best, I promise). For those of you who'd like an update on my health, I've been through what they call a '' Breath Test '' to see if there isn't some kind of bacteria in my stomach. If so, I'm supposed to get news in two or three weeks. I'll let you know as soon as I do._

 _Thank you for the kind reviews, and for the favorites/follows :) It warms my heart._

 _English is not my first language. _

* * *

**Chapter 6**

 _ **Scarred**_

 _Of course she wouldn't be here, stupid!_

Breathing heavily, Alaya cursed herself silently while glancing inside Sansa room. The young lady was still with Joffrey. Alaya needed to find a way to stop him from killing Sansa, or whatever plans he had for her. With her brother alive – well, _half-brother_ – Sansa would now have a reason to fight. But how could Alaya, a lonely whore, stop a King without losing her life? And what could possibly make him change his mind?

 _The Hound! I need to find him._

Yes, the Hound would surely come up with something. He would never let his little bird down. He cared for her too much. How the Hound felt about Sansa Stark was no secret to the whole world. Only a blind fool like Joffrey wouldn't see it. Or a naïve proper lady like Sansa.

As she sprinted down the hallway, Alaya thought of how she wished to have a man devoted to her like Sandor Clegane was to the Stark girl. Despite his scars, his lack of patience, his mocking and sarcastic remarks, and his sudden bursts of anger, Alaya wouldn't mind sharing more than the Hound's bed. With those strong arms of his and his sharp mind, he would make a good husband. Unfortunately, he only had eyes for his little bird, who wanted nothing more than to fly away from this horrible place and would probably forget him once she would be back in her freezing north – or wherever her home would be.

Turning a corner, Alaya stopped abruptly. She could hear voices speaking, but couldn't distinguish what they were saying. The rumbling of one of the voices told her it was the Hound and someone else. A woman.

'' With Jaime gone, I need someone to look after Joffrey, and that's exactly what you and Ser Osmund are doing despite hating him. And don't try to tell me otherwise. I know you do. Everyone does… ''

A cry interrupted her, and Alaya felt both relieved and saddened by the sound.

 _I'm not too late!_ _Poor child..._

'' Even his wife… ''

Alaya peeked in the hallway. The Hound was standing beside the door to Joffrey's room, Cersei standing a few inches in front of him. Her stare seemed lost and her voice was a little hollow. Alaya recognized the sadness and longing of a mother, and felt something akin to empathy towards the queen. Regardless of all the evil things she did, Cersei was still a loving and caring mother, and had always done her best to be.

'' … my baby boy, my firstborn, my precious miracle… ''

At the other end of the corridor, Alaya could hear the clanking of chains. It seemed like Pycelle had found them too.

'' Your Grace! ''

Alaya watched the exchange closely. She saw Cersei take the parchment and read it. By the look on her face, the news of Jon Snow not being dead seemed of high importance. Cersei's face paled and her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Then, Sansa screamed; a scream Alaya had only ever heard on the battlefield when she was a camp follower. A scream even the most battle hardened soldier would get nightmares from. A split second later, all hell broke loose.

'' YOU FUCKING BASTARD! ''

Alaya watched helplessly as The Hound threw himself into Joffrey's room like a bull. A few grunts were heard inside the room, then silence followed, only broken by Cersei's hysterical shrieks.

'' STOP HIM! GUARDS! GUARDS! STOP HIM! HE'S GOING TO KILL MY SON, YOUR KING! ''

Maester Pycelle was stomping the ground, not seeming to know what to do.

'' Oh, Gods! Oh, Gods! ''

Alaya heard quick footsteps behind her, but she was too dumbstruck to even attempt to hide. A strong gloved hand took hold of her arm and turned her around swiftly, while the other clamped down on her mouth. As she was about to try to escape, Alaya recognized the man due to his high resemblance with the Hound, though he looked way more handsome than the latter.

 _Osmund Kettleback_.

'' If someone asks why you were here, '' he said low close to her ear. '' I was taking you to my room, understand? Cersei hates spies when they're not hers. Now, come. Lady Sansa's going to need your assistance, if she's still alive, that is. ''

Understanding what he was doing, all the while dreading if she would see Sansa's corpse once in the room, Alaya nodded, then proceeded to follow him. When she took her first glance around the King's chambers, Alaya couldn't help but cry out.

'' Clegane, don't! ''

The Hound was holding Joffrey by his collar against a wall. The King's nose was bleeding heavily while he sobbed and moaned in pain. His feet were far from the ground, his face now level with Sandor's. Cersei was trying in vain to pull on the man's arm, screaming and slapping him by turn.

'' Let him go at once! Let him go, Clegane, I command you! OBEY YOUR QUEEN, DAMN YOU. LET GO OFF MY SON! SOMEONE HELP! ''

'' Stand back, your Grace, '' Kettleback said, his voice strangely calm despite the situation.

Even more strangely, Cersei obeyed and took a few steps back, her eyes full of tears and fear watching the man closely. Kettleback, who was of the same size and shape of the Hound, came to stand behind him and started pulling on his arms, all the while talking to his good ear so low, no one could hear what he was saying. Still, his words seemed to have a strong impact since the Hound's form started to shake, and he slowly let go off Joffrey. As soon as the boy fell on the ground, his mother and the maester were at his side.

A whimper on her left made Alaya turn her head. Her hands came up to her mouth to muffle her cry.

 _By the Seven, Sansa!_

The girl was laying lifelessly on the ground, her bruised limbs unmoving. From the way she was curled on herself, Alaya could see a mix of blood and bodily fluids coming out of her cunt and her arsehole. Her back had multiple bleeding cuts that only a whip could have caused.

Alaya had seen all different kinds of injuries during her days as a camp follower, and after a time she'd even become accustomed to them. Still, the state of Sansa Stark's left shoulder along with the side of her neck made bile rise in the servant's throat.

Where before there had only been smooth pale skin, her shoulder now looked like a mess of melted skin, blood and blisters. Pieces of burned skin were still attached to the wound and hung loosely over it. Alaya was petrified by the gruesome picture.

Yet, while the young lady seemed peacefully asleep, Joffrey was whining loud enough for all the kingdoms to hear.

'' OUCH! Don'd douch id, you old rag! '' screamed Joffrey, his words barely understandable with his broken nose. '' Id hurds! ''

'' Hush! Let the maester do his job. I know it hurts, my love, but don't worry you will soon feel better. Maester Pycelle can fix this. Am I right, maester? ''

'' Yes, of course, your grace! I will do all I can to... ''

'' Someone should take Lady Sansa back to her room, '' Kettleback intervened politely.

Cersei threw a disinterested glance towards the girl.

'' Well, then, get her out of here! Clegane... ''

'' NOD YOU, DOG! I WAND YOUR HEAD OD A SBIKE!

'' Your Grace, '' started Kettleback. '' Let me keep an eye on both traitors. I will send Ser Meryn to guard you. ''

''Good, good, '' hurriedly agreed Cersei before Joffrey answered. '' Take the whore with you, '' she added. '' That one has nothing to do in the King's chamber. ''

'' She was with me, your Grace, '' tried to explain Ser Osmund. '' I was walking with her when we heard... ''

Cersei raised her brow and flashed him a murderous glance.

'' I don't care whether she was with you or the Stranger himself, '' hissed Cersei, her tone belying her words. '' Obey at once! All of you! ''

As if he'd just woken up from a trance, the Hound finally – and to Alaya's relief – moved from where he'd been left standing in a corner of the room. In three long strides, he was at Sansa's side and already crouching to lift her up carefully in his arms. Alaya followed him closely as he left the room, Kettleback on their heels. In the hallway, they could still hear Joffrey.

'' I SAID: DON'D DOUCH BY DOSE! ''

Alaya strangely and inappropriately felt like laughing.

.

* * *

 _I hope you liked it! If you did, you know how to let me know ;) I always love to read your reactions and know what you think about the story. Have a good weekend :)_


	7. Unexpected Help: Part 1

**Author's note :** _Hi there! It's been a while, I know! I am very sorry for the long wait. I hope you guys will forgive me. 2019 has been a rough year on my health. I am coeliac and lactose intolerant since 2015 and during christmas I was diagnosed with Crohn's disease too. I've been hospitalized twice between christmas and today. Combined with my general anxiety disorder, I didn't find time nor enery to write/post anything. I feel better now and I can't wait to read from you! I wish you all a happy new year. May it be filled with love, happiness and health. See you at the bottom :)  
_

*English is not my first language.

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 _ **Unexpected help: Part I**_

The weight of Sansa's body in his arms was the only thing that kept Sandor from going back in Joffrey's room and slaughter them all, consequences be damned. The girl seemed to have passed out from the pain, something Sandor was grateful for. He remembered vividly how horrible it was to be burned; he was glad she wasn't aware of it.

 _For now_.

Sandor unconsciously tightened his hold on Sansa in a protective way. As they approached Sansa's room, Alaya walked past Sandor to open the door. He made his way to the bed where he laid her down gently and turned her carefully so that she was laying on her stomach. The burn was too fresh to be covered yet, and the bloody cuts on her back needed to be attended to at once. With Alaya's help, they quickly covered her lower body to preserve her modesty. Alaya went to an adjacent room and came back with a small basin of room temperature water and clean washcloths. She set the basin on Sansa's nightstand before turning to Sandor. He was bent over the mattress, his hand softly brushing Sansa's hair away from her face.

I have to clean her cunt and arse, Alaya said without preamble. Clegane, you clean her back. You know better than me what to do with that burn. And since I don't want any fucking man's eyes lurking, Kettleback, you get out of here.

I was commanded to keep an eye on the traitors...

 _And I_ _command you_ to get the hell out of here before I punch your pretty face so hard that you'd wish the Hound had done it, Alaya snapped back with her voice rising louder as she spoke. Lady Sansa needs milk of the poppy, some kind of pomade for her wounds, and some fucking _privacy_! So you be a good boy, you go to that damned maester's room and get these things for us.

Kettleback stared at her for a moment, then his eyes darted to Sandor.

How can I be sure that he won't try to escape while I'm gone?

Sandor scoffed.

Believe me, I ain't going anywhere.

Kettleback's stare went back and forth between Alaya and Sandor, before landing on Sandor's hand, which was still resting on top of Sansa's head. Sandor didn't withdraw his hand. It was useless now, considering how he'd reacted to Joffrey hurting the young woman a few minutes earlier. Soon, the whole Red Keep would know that the Hound had become Lady Sansa's pet.

I need to tell you something before I leave. It's what I tried to tell you in the King's room. I want to help you.

Sandor snorted and Alaya let out a humorless laugh.

Help us? Snapped Alaya. You want to help us? Then, do as I fucking told you!

Please, let me explain! Kettleback exclaimed before looking behind his shoulder and lowering his voice. Listen, we don't have much time, the guards will soon arrive to arrest you, Clegane. Lady Sansa is in danger here and…

You don't say, interrupted Sandor. Tell me something I don't know, instead. I don't have time for your bullshit, Kettleback! You want to help us? Go get what we need.

You care about her, Kettleback blurted out. I don't know if she does too, but how do you think she will feel about you when she learns that someone offered you to help her out, and you told him no. It should be her decision to make, yet she is in no state to do that now. It's up to you.

 _Damn it!_

Sandor was fuming. Deep down, he knew that Sansa would have wanted to know how he could help them. But he also knew that the Red Keep was filled with traitors and spies. Could he truly take the risk?

 _Your head will be put on a spike anyway, dog. One way or another, if he's trying to trick you, you're dead._

I…

A commotion was heard in the hallway. Sandor's hand went to the pommel of his sword, though he damn well knew he wouldn't be able to fight the guards off. His other hand that was still in Sansa's hair reluctantly let go, and he motioned for Alaya to take his place.

They're coming, Kettleback said uselessly. When they lead you to the dungeon, don't fight back. I'm offering you a way out, to the three of you. He only wants the best for Lady Sansa and her loved ones!

He? Alaya inquired. Who are you talking about?

Before he could answer, the door burst open and a group of half a dozen goldcloaks invaded the room. Meryn Trant was leading them, a smudge smirk on his ugly face. Sandor also noticed that the two other Kettleback brothers, Osney and Osfryd, were there as well. Sandor pulled Alaya behind him so that she was standing beside Sansa's bed, then he placed himself between the men and his little bird.

Well, well, well, Clegane, Meryn snickered. I've heard you've been a very bad hound lately. Seems like it's finally time to put the dog to chains.

Sandor snorted.

Bet you spent the last couple of years jerking off at the thought of that day arriving, Sandor mocked. And the same amount of time to come up with that line.

Laugh all you want, Clegane. The only regret I have is not being the one who will swing the sword when the time comes. I tried to tell them what a pile of shit you were, but they wouldn't listen to me.

Poor little Trant! They prefer a traitorous dog instead of a man who prefers fucking girls that barely stopped suckling on their mama's tits.

You son of a…!

AH!

Alaya's cry alerted everyone in the room. Sandor whirled around and withdrew his sword, ignoring the multiple swords that were withdrawn as he did so. He was ready to fight any bastard who would have tried touching the woman, but he only encountered Alaya's frightened stare and very pale face.

I… Sansa… her eye! I don't know what wrong with her. Here, have a look.

She gently lifted the girl's eyelid and everyone gasped in the room, even Trant.

When before it was a beautiful Tully blue, Sansa's eye was red as blood.

 _What the fuck?!_

That bitch should be dead already, Trant said blankly and the other guards nodded their agreement. Those bloody Starks! I regretted not having fucked her myself before, but now I believe she is doomed to bring bad luck to anyone who touches her. Take the dog and chain him. I'll take care of her later.

It has to be tonight, Osmund said. My brothers and I will escort the dog. I'll make sure no one bothers you. Like I said, it has to be tonight, he repeated with a pointed look towards Sandor.

Well, thanks to you, Kettleback, Trant said with an uncertain half-smile on his face. Don't forget to bring the whore with you. I have no use for her. She's too old anyway.

Sandor wasn't sure if he could trust Osmund Kettleback. He didn't like this not one bit, yet he didn't have much choice. To his own surprise, he did as the man had told him and didn't fight as the younger Kettleback brothers locked the chains around his wrists. Alaya was watching him with huge watery eyes. The woman was clearly terrified. She hadn't seen the look he and Osmund had shared. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod, in an attempt to let her know that she should trust him, although he didn't know if he was right in doing what he was doing. Still, he needed her to stay strong and do anything in her power to protect Sansa. If Kettleback betrayed them and Sandor ended up executed, the woman would be the last person in this world caring about Sansa Stark's fate.

NO!

Osfryd Kettleback had taken hold of the woman's arm and was dragging her away as she struggled violently. Alaya managed to wriggle free from his grip and swirled around to slap him hard in the face. Osfryd slapped her in return, sending her sprawled on the ground. The other men laughed.

Ooooh! That one's got balls!

Sandor pulled on his chains until the youngest Kettleback brother, Osney, whispered in his good ear:

Don't do anything stupid, Hound. We got this, I promise. It has to look like we're not on your side.

So, the three Kettleback were playing the same game. While the men mocked Alaya for being manhandled roughly by Osfryd, Sandor turned around enough to throw a menacing glare at Osney.

I don't fucking trust you, he gritted between his teeth so that Kettleback was the only one hearing. And I don't like you, any of you. If any harm comes to her or the whore again, you'll beg the Stranger to take you before I'm done.

Even in chains, the threat made the youngest Kettleback shiver. Despite the man being tall, he wasn't as tall as his older brothers, who were almost Sandor's size, but not exactly. Sandor still had a few inches taller than them.

Well, since these big guys can take care of Clegane, one of the guards declared. I guess we're free to go. I'd like to take that wench into my room and teach her how to behave, he added with a lustful stare at Alaya, then proceeded to grip his manhood for good measure.

Leave her to Osfryd, Meryn intervened with a mischievous grin. I bet he'd like to teach her a few things himself first. I've heard he's pretty good at it.

The two men exchanged a knowing smirk and Osfryd tightened his already bruising hold on Alaya. Her mask of anger broke into a wince of pain. If this was all a play from the Kettleback brothers, that one was a little too good at it. Sandor took a mental note to never trust Osfryd with Sansa or Alaya's safety, no matter what happened next.

Alright, declared Osmund. Everyone out, now. Ser Meryn, we'll let you do what you have to do. Osfryd, you're free to go with the wench. Osney and I can handle the Hound.

The other guards left, leaving behind the Kettleback brothers with their hostages and Trant.

.

* * *

 _I bet some of you already know what's coming ;) If you remember correctly who the Kettleback bros were working for. And who is obsessed with Sansa Stark (or her ressemblance with her lady mother). There are still a lot of chapters to come in this story. I hope you'll bear with me and enjoy doing so till the end of it. I'll try to update in the next two weeks! My new year's resolution haha!_

 _For those who wonder where this is going, with the bit about Sansa's eyes, I'm a huge fan of fantasy. Harry Potter was my first love. And I have some kind of obsession with wolves, if you know what I mean. I love the bond that they have with the Starks and I might play with it a little for my own pleasure. It won't be a huge part of the story, but it's gonna be there._

 _Thanks for reading and taking the time to review/favorite/follow -xx-_


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